by Mark Riggs
by Mark Riggs
I think of you a lot when I’m with Binx.
I think of how he would have brought you joy,
And with that comes the ache as my heart sinks
Because you never got to know this boy.
It sinks, but not to where it sank before.
I guess, since time has passed, I could attempt
To keep you up to date—but what a bore.
Besides, I have lost track: my notes, unkempt
Inside my brain won’t help me any more.
I’ll hit some post-game highlights, then I’m out.
I’ve earned my Master’s. Now I wear light blue
If I wear scholar’s robes—right now I doubt
That any time real soon that will come true.
(The pay raise is what that degree’s about.)
But your fifth child has walked across that stage.
And—speaking of your kids—we’re all still here,
Each one with five years added the age
We were when we mourned you that nasty year.
We laugh; we cry; we fight; we love; we rage
Against the tide of time and hand of fate.
I’ve missed you more than I would care to share
Since long before your final resting date.
I wish that—rather than that empty stare—
I’d had one last chance to communicate
The things I’d wished I’d said when you weren’t “gone”.
But is that something new? I’m not alone.
The world is full of fools who have moved on
Since seeing all they’ve missed and could bemoan.
Try this instead: “I shall see you anon.”
Archaic? Yes, but gets the point across.
So, back to Binx: his mind makes me miss you.
And he will not know you. Another loss.
But I’ll remember you in all I do—
These thoughts are rolling stones (they’re all sans moss):
Solid Patsy rocks no tide can destroy.